The Long Road Back Home
by Little-Firestar84
Summary: Future-Fic. In the aftermath of Red John's death, Jane and Lisbon are faced with a future where they are not any longer in the shadow of a serial killer. But ten years are a long time, and not everything is how they had wanted it to be. Staying together may be a mistake, but being lonely could be even worse. Cover by kathiann
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **The long road back home

**Author: ****little_firestar**

**Artist: **kathiann

**Total Word Count: **~ 16165

**Rating: **K+

**Summary**: In the aftermath of Red John's death, Jane and Lisbon are faced with a future where they are not any longer in the shadow of a serial killer. But ten years are a long time, and not everything is how they had wanted it to be, and they'll discover that staying together may be a mistake, but being lonely could be even worse.

**Disclaimer: **No, nor the characters or the show belong to me. And this time around, there is not even an original character to claim as mine…

**Notes:** Future-fic, post Red John's end. Spoiler-free. Amazing Thanks to Kathiann for the incredible art and the very inspirinmg fanmix. Working with her on a Big Bang is always a pleasure.

* * *

Chapter One

At the end it wasn't like he had imagined it. Not at all.

When he had first sworn revenge, Jane had assumed that getting to end the serial killer's life would be enough to free him, but as soon as he saw the lifeless body on the ground, he realized that it wasn't as cathartic as he had always assumed. He didn't know what he had though until that moment. The fact that Red John was gone didn't really change anything for him. His past was still the same. His family was lost, and he still was responsible for their deaths.

And yet, at the same time, the fact that the serial killer was finally gone meant everything to him. He was free, he could bury his past, leave it behind as much as he could, and look forward to the future. It was really a strange sensation: Jane had never really believed those people who said that you could feel like crying and laughing at the same time, being ecstatic and desperate in the same instant. And yet, it was exactly as he felt.

And that was another part of the problem.

He knew how he felt. He also knew how he was _supposed _to feel thanks to books and thousands of people who thought they just had to get involved with his life, and yet he didn't know if it really was right. It wasn't just because it took him over ten years to really start to mourn his family in the proper way, but... it was hard to explain. It was just that, everybody had their opinion, and every book said the same thing in just a different way. Everything and everyone told him he _had _to move on, and he knew that many of them spoke out of first-hand knowledge, but no one really was in his own position. Everyone told him they knew how he felt, that everybody, just because they were survivors, felt guilty, but it wasn't the case. He _was_ guilty.

Yes, he knew he hadn't killed them with his own hands, and yet, it was exactly where their blood was. It was his fault if his family was no more, because he had been a greedy, full-functioning sociopathic, self-centered con artist and he had spoken too much about things he didn't really have a saying into. He had always, _always, _believed that getting to kill Red John would have freed him, he had never doubted it, and yet, he had been wrong. Red John was gone. He was alive. And he didn't feel any better.

"Jane..." A tiny, soft, delicate hand went to his shoulder, and he turned to look at Lisbon. He could see relief in her features - because he was alive and Red John wasn't - but also fear. He felt like there were so many things he had to tell her, things that now he could say at loud, but he found out that he didn't have the strength to. He wanted to laugh. to cry, to live, to die... but mostly, he wanted to just ask her to open her arms and take him in, to allow him to cry on her shoulder and let him fall asleep there. He wanted to ask her to be there for him, to mend his broken heart, but the words didn't come out. Just like she hadn't been able to say nothing more than his surname, he couldn't add anything to his intake of breath.

His family was gone. Red John was gone. He was alive. _Lisbon _was alive. He wanted to live. And he wanted to do so with her, but he wasn't sure he could.

She was just too much. Oh, he wasn't stupid. He knew she wasn't perfect, far from it, but that wasn't the problem. It was just that she deserved better. He was so... small, broken, imperfect and... he was just so, so bad. Sometimes he thought he had the magic touch of ruining everything he cared for, also when Red John wasn't part of the equation. How many of his relationships had been ruined, even before he crossed paths with the serial killer? Everyone he cared for, they eventually either abandon him or got abandoned by him, and if the choice was between having Lisbon as a friend, or even just as his boss, and not having her at all, there wasn't really any choice. It was just that easy.

He didn't want to lose her, and he wanted more than what he had right now, probably more than he was allowed to have. But he felt like it wasn't meant to be. Yes, they both wanted the same thing- a future together- but he wasn't that kind of man any longer. Maybe they could have been happy together in another time, another life, but now he couldn't give her what she wanted. What she deserved. Having a family, love, together, just to have it all tainted by the darkness of his past, shattered by his broken soul, it just wasn't right. Lisbon wanted it all, and it all was what she deserved. And he knew she could still have it, just not with him. But he knew just the right man: _her _man.

Peter was just perfect for her. He worked in law enforcement as well, in a white-collared position, and he understood her and her needs. He was a good Catholic from a loving family, an Ivy League graduate... he wasn't just the better man, he was the perfect one for Lisbon. He knew that when she had accepted to go out with him she hadn't even just wanted to make her consultant jealous, she was simply looking for a rebound to have good old fashioned sex with. She wanted a one night stand, and not a relationship, but Jane had eventually pushed them towards each other, and now here they were. Lisbon had been dating the guy for over six months, and if she thought that now that Red John was gone he would have tried to steal her away from her prince, well, she was wrong.

And, just like that... here he was, detective Peter Heist, Sacramento PD, Major Crimes Unit. Not that it really was a surprise. Heist was working the case too, and he knew that they were going to end it all that very night. Jane assumed he was a tiny bit mad about not having Red John taken in alive- it would have been good for the spotlight, in case he would have decided to eventually run for Sheriff. Besides, there was also the tiny particular about Lisbon being his girlfriend/soon to be bride-to-be. And, even if Heist could be an ass and they hated each other with a passion, the man honestly loved Lisbon. Even if he hadn't worked the case, Jane was sure he would have eventually joined them on the scene, just to see how his girlfriend was doing.

"Reese? Are you all right?" Heist joined them, an arm around Lisbon's waist -to protect her, but also to remember whom she belonged to - and when Jane saw his eyes darken at the sight of the serial killer's body, he knew he had been right. The guy was mad, indeed. Oh well, he thought trying to repress a smirk, one couldn't have it all from life...

"We're fine. Just our luck Jane improved with guns..." she said. Her voice was laced with fear, relief and something else he couldn't point out exactly. He wondered if she was somehow... happy, knowing that he had gotten what he wanted-murderous vengeance- and yet he was still free. He had really acted on self-defense, there was no denying it. He had kept his promise to her, he had done things just like she wanted them to. He hadn't killed only because he wanted to. It was because he didn't have any choice, it was either the killer or himself. She had to be proud of herself, she had gotten so much under his skin that he had to follow her path, no matter what.

So, maybe...

But then, as soon as he dared to imagine a future with that beautiful woman, he fisted his hands at his sides. He couldn't risk losing her. He didn't have any right to ruin either her or Peter's happiness. Getting involved in things he didn't have a saying into always resulted in bad things happening, and he was sick and tired of it.

He looked at her leaving the warehouse, Peter's arm still around her, and as much as he wanted to be happy for his friend, he just couldn't. But maybe, faking happiness, being miserable for the rest of his days was just a fitting punishment for his youthful hubris.

Besides, it was better having her in his life that way, than not having her at all.

Or at least, he hoped that he could really think that in due time.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

He really thought it would get easier. Well, it was time for Patrick Jane to face the truth: looking at Lisbon being happy and in love with someone else wasn't the piece of cake he had assumed it was going to be. Not that he had really thought that it could be _that easy, _but he had hoped that with time he would have been ok with her being with someone else, that he could be happy for her. Well, he had been wrong. And if Hell existed... it looked exactly like that.

But looking at her all smiles and secret touches with Heist wasn't even the worst part. No. Teresa herself was making it harder to handle. Because she couldn't help but being yet again Saint Teresa, savior of all things Jane. She was always around. Had he wanted to escape her - which he wasn't sure he wanted - there was just no way out. She was always there for _and _with him. Either when he was awake and asleep.

He wondered if his mind was trying to telling him something, with those constant dreams he was having of her. He had never really been in touch with himself. He had always found his mind a scary place, dark and lonely, filled with anger, despair and regrets. When it came to other people, he often used what they dreamt and hoped for, just to get what he wanted when he wanted (and needed) it, but with himself it was different. Before Red John fell, dreams had been a scary occurrence, something he avoided with all his might, and on the rare instances he dreamt and it wasn't about bloody smiles and murder, he just couldn't be bothered with analyzing it. He didn't have time to think about himself, he had to concentrate on getting Red John, killing him, getting vengeance.

But now...

Now, it was all different. It wasn't like he wanted to dream or think about his dreams or what they could mean. It just was that now couldn't help it. He had all this free time, and he didn't know how to use it, so of course his mind kept going always in the same place-Lisbon, and the dreams he was having about her, all those tiny details that others would define insignificant that were imprinted forever and ever in his mind, thanks to that wonderful memory palace he had started to hate.

And only if they had been erotic dreams... but no. He could have been able to handle erotica. He had been quite the lothario in his youngster years, prior to Angela, lust wasn't something he wasn't accustomed to. Lust he could handle, he was in full control of his body, after all. But no. It wasn't about the sex. He didn't want her merely for her body. Nope. His dreams were caste and pure. He kept seeing her asleep, engulfed by him. He saw the two of them cuddling. Playing with a dog on a seaside. Deep asleep at night, with a brunette child between them.

They weren't nightmares and yet they felt like it. Because he knew that despite how much he wanted for them to come true, it wasn't meant to be. It wasn't right. Teresa deserved better, someone just like Heist.

But she didn't want to understand it. She was always there. All he needed was space, and she wasn't willing to let him be. It was like she was scared of letting it go of him. And speaking of the devil...

"Ehy Jane, you want to get something? I feel like getting a sundae. A corrupted and evil judge sent behind bars is reason enough to celebrate with ice-cream in the middle of the day, right?"

He barely resisted the urge to grunt or say something extremely impolite, as much as she could deserve such a treatment; instead, he opened his eyes, and lazily he left his beloved spot on his couch. He wanted to sigh and shake his head. Two months ago Lisbon would have never asked him out to eat, in any way - it was more his kind of thing- and she would have woke him up by kicking the beloved piece of furniture. Now, instead, she made sure that he had always something to eat - sometimes proper food, sometimes just food for the "soul"- and she gently woke him up with a low, smiling voice and gentle touches.

Why was she making him fall in love with her a bit more every day? Why? What was that? Karma? Proof that God existed and He hated him?

"Ugh... no thanks. I think that the green filling of the sandwich I ate for dinner wasn't supposed to be green at all..."

She sighed, shaking her head, yet with a small smile. Sometimes, she just didn't get him. "Jane, if you just had one old sandwich in your fridge at the motel, why didn't you come to eat with me when I offered?" she asked. She really wanted to grunt. That man, he was impossible. Why wasn't he allowing her to take care of him? It was what she was best at, after all. The reason her brothers were happy, healthy and with no criminal record.

And then she saw it, his tell. Because when it came to her, Patrick Jane didn't have a perfect poker face any longer. She could always say when he was lying or not telling her something, nowadays, as much as he said the opposite. Maybe she didn't learn to lie in ten years of partnership, but oh boy, she knew him. She knew him better than what he thought. Maybe even better than he knew himself.

"Jane... you know, you are giving away that homeless vibe again." she told him matter of fact, and when he bit his lips and looked away she knew she was right. "Please tell me that it's not what I think." she closed her eyes and took a big breath. She liked to take care of people, but this man was making it very hard.

"I'm not completely sure how it may have happened, but I think I got blacklisted from every motel in the Sacramento area." He admitted. Well, actually, he thought he knew why he had ended up sleeping on a semi-permanent basis in the CBI attic. He was almost positive that word came out that whenever he went, big, deadly, murderous, police-related troubles followed. And if there was one thing that motel owners (and carnie people) hated, it was the police.

"Jane..." she said, sighing and with a low, sweet voice. Their eyes met, and he knew where she was going. She had already gone there after Red John's death, and he didn't have any intention of following her there. Things were already difficult enough.

"Lisbon, I'm not going to take your guest room." he said, louder then he intended, and harsher. She took a step back, trembling for a fraction of second, her body remembering that tone, acting on autopilot. He hated himself, even if he doubted that Teresa was aware of her reactions. Now, it was his time to sigh. "Lisbon, I'm not a stray cat."

"I've never acted like you..."

"Yes you did, Lisbon." he said, stopping her from ending the sentence. Because she wasn't being honest. She was acting like he was a stray cat. Hell, she acted like everyone was a stray cat. That was why her team was made of such... _peculiar _members_. _"Lisbon, you are that close to try to fluff my hair!" he added in an annoyed, child-like tone, his thumb and index finger almost touching.

"Now you are exaggerating..." she answered huffing, but he tried to resist smirking when she blushed. Oh, the lovely Lisbon had been tempted to pat his head just like he was a child or a kitty and now she didn't want to admit it. Sometimes she didn't get her. She knew that she wanted to look like an hard-assed cop to the rest of the world, but was it really necessary to act with him too? He believed she was aware that there was no need to hide her sweet nurturing nature with him. Unless... unless it was because she was still trying to put walls between them. Because she was still scared that he could hurt her.

Oh, wonderful. Now even the thought of _dreaming_ of having a relationship with her made him feel guilty.

"But... are you at least trying to sleep?" he looked at her in a way that she immediately understood that he was yet again trying to make her see his point-that she acted like he was a poor lost creature found in the woods - and yet again she blushed. Well, she guessed he did have a point. But she couldn't help it. She wasn't ashamed of her nature, and she wasn't going to change herself for any man, not even Patrick Jane. "What? You do have dark shadows under the eyes. And it's not like I am blind." She defended herself.

"Lisbon... stop worrying about me. Because as far as I remember, a, I already had a homeless vibe when we met and b, these dark shadows were already there too."

"Maybe you should try to talk with someone... I mean, I am here, but if you don't want to I think that maybe Doctor Miller would be willing to help you out..."

"Lisbon..." he just said her name, massaging at closed eyes the bridge of his nose. It was something more in her cords, but he just was having enough. He just... why was she torturing him like that? What did she want? He knew that she wanted to make it easier for him, that she just wanted to help, but she was doing the opposite. With every look, every touch, every word, she was just making him fall in love with her a bit more. And knowing that he just couldn't have her, that he wasn't allowed to...

"Listen, why don't you come to my place tonight? I've got a decent meal, and, if you don't want to sleep in the guest room, I'll let you stay on the couch. It's fine with me. I just want you to..."

She didn't end the sentence, but the words were still in the air, heavy between them. She wanted him there, and she wanted to be the one to heal him. Only, he knew it was wrong. Teresa was doing it with the best intentions, but he didn't want to make her break up with her boyfriend just to start something that couldn't work, nor he wanted to fall every day more in love with her just to look at her getting married and having a family with someone else. He had believed he could have been able to handle it, but now he knew that he had been delusional.

With the corner of the eye, he saw Heist leaving the elevator, checking the time to see if he could already ask Teresa to join him for dinner- it was just how considered he was - and without saying anything, Jane nodded in his direction, showing Teresa who was there.

"I don't think Peter would be happy to have me at his girlfriend's place." he added.

She nodded, blushing, suddenly aware of what many men would have believed, and she stood without saying anything more. With quick, heavy steps she joined Peter, and kissed him, embarrassed. It was quick and very caste, something Peter didn't like considered that he thought they were alone, but Lisbon had never been too passionate and wild with him, after all. But he had never complained: Peter liked that she was shy, stubborn and concentrated on her job, this was why he had fallen for her.

Once the elevator doors opened, she stopped before entering, and she turned one last time, looking in Jane's general direction. It was dark and the only reason she could see his silhouette was because she knew he was there. "Jane? I'll see you tomorrow, then?" She asked, a bit tentatively. It was like she was scared, like talking about Peter and having him there with her had broken some kind of secret spell between her and her consultant.

Jane stood, and with hands in his pockets he joined her. He stood a bit far, studying the duo, Peter always touching Teresa and marking his territory, Lisbon always divided between the two men of her life. Then and there, he decided that it was time to end it once and for all, it wasn't right for neither of them. She deserved better, but so did he.

"Actually Lisbon... I talked with the Director, and... you were right. I need to talk with someone." he said, at low voice.

"Oh" she simply said, clearly surprised. And not only that. He could see in her eyes there was another emotion - fear - and he knew why. She knew what he was going to say, and as much as she had known it was going to happen, she had tried to stop it with all her might. It killed him to do so, but really, there was no other way.

"I am taking a leave of absence. I think... it could do me some good. Besides, we haven't been able to find Danny to tell him that _he_ is dead so, I was thinking that maybe Sam and Pete could give me an hand... I want to be the one to tell him exactly what happened, and who he was. After losing Angie and Charlie that way, he deserves as much, don't you believe?"

"Yeah, sure, besides, you've always been adamant that the only reason you were here it was because you wanted to get Red John, right?" he didn't need to be close to her to know that her eyes were teary, that she was fisting her hands at her sides, that she was full of rage. He knew her. And it was hell to do such a thing to her, but it needed to be done. For both their sake.

"Yeah, you know, maybe getting back with the carnival and my family is just what I need to move on... remember who I used to be before all of this started."

"Yeah, well, in that case, Jane, good luck with the rest of your life" And grabbing Peter for an arm, she finally entered the elevator, turning her back on him once and for all, facing the truth: she had never meant anything for him. Like all the others, she was just a means to an end, and he had stayed just to kill Red John. With the killer dead, he had no reason at all to stay. He was free, and he could go back to his old life, to his old ways, the con-man, fake psych lothario.

As she went away, Jane wondered why, if it was the right thing, it hurt so much.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

She had always knew that one day Jane would be gone. For this reason, she thought she was going to be ready whenever it was going to happen. But the truth was, she wasn't. Saying the opposite would be just a lie. Her life felt cold and empty, and as much as she had always said that she didn't care about him, that she kept him around just because he closed cases... she simply missed him.

Jane had come to fill a place in heart she didn't know it needed to be filled to begin with. She had always thought that she had gotten stronger, that she didn't need anyone else after the betrayal of every member of her family. She wanted to be cool when alone, and she thought she had come to be in a place where she was in peace with herself, that she was all right and fine on her own. The only thing was, she had never realized that she had never been alone for the last ten years.

Jane had always been with her. He wasn't just around, but he was in every gift and in every word, in every coffee and , in every "I missed you". And she hadn't know this until he was gone. She couldn't believe she had been that blind. And now... now, there was nothing she could do about it. Jane was gone. He had pushed her away and instead of trying to get him back she had pushed him away in return. So, so, wrong, and yet, there was nothing else she could do. Jane leaving was inevitable, she had always knew it. This was why she shouldn't feel sorry and bad. And yet, she did. And that just made her worse. Because despite _feeling alone, _she wasn't alone.

She had Peter, and for that, she was supposed to be grateful. And she was, but she couldn't bring herself to be completely happy about her relationship. She knew she shouldn't go and break people's heart, but sometimes she felt like their love -if it could even be called that way - was doomed. Yes, Peter was just perfect and loved her as no one before did (even Greg), but her heart was the problem. As much as she cared about him, she couldn't bring herself to fully commit to this man. Everybody kept telling her that she was crazy saying that she wasn't ready to get married to such a great cop, but she was scared. Deep down, Lisbon knew she was going for second best, and she knew it wasn't right.

And besides, she had always hoped that Jane one day would just take her there and there and promise her eternal love, so...

But dreams didn't always come true. She should have knew better. She should have learnt a long time ago, and yet that seemed to be a lesson she had yet to get right. But Teresa Lisbon was no little kid, no damsel in distress, so even if her heart was broken and she shared her bed with someone she didn't fully love, she acted all tough and told herself it was right, that it was enough.

At night, though, she couldn't hide from the truth.

She tried to stay at the office as late as possible, sometimes sitting on Jane's couch trying to see if she could still feel his scent, his persona there, but there was only coldness and void: despite Pete being there, her life was empty once again, just like it had been for so long after the loss of her parents.

And Pete... well, he knew that something was wrong, but he just couldn't get it right. It wasn't his fault, he was a good detective, she had just learnt from the best that there was- or maybe Pete was so in love he didn't want to see there was a problem. She didn't know. She wasn't even sure she wanted to, actually. Sometimes playing dumb could be the best option.

Dear Pete did his best. Poor man thought she was just stressed out, overwhelmed by Red John's departure. It had been the highlight of her career, getting him finally, unmasking the menace. Everybody wanted a piece of Teresa Lisbon now that she was the top cop in California and Nevada and maybe even the rest of the US of America. Hell... she was barely around, between trials, TV shows, interviews… everybody wanted to talk with her. Heist was just happy that at least Jane wasn't around any longer. His Teresa spent her whole free time getting him out of troubles. And if Teresa had a little bit more than free time... he could have his Teresa a little bit more for himself. For Peter, it was just that easy. He didn't see the truth- couldn't, even. He was... blinded by love, as nauseating as it sounded.

Nobody seemed to see her pain. She was getting thinner, paler, the shadows under her eyes darker and deeper with every passing day, but no one saw it. Either she was that good at covering it, or they were just too self-centered to understood that something was deeply, truly wrong with their boss and friend.

Well, there was actually someone who wasn't fooled completely by her act. And it was the person who knew her better alongside Jane. And the only one who apparently really cared about her well-being. Cho.

It was one morning, during a routine operation. They were sitting in her car, waiting for the green light to just raid the place, when, while she was wearing her vest, he stopped her with just his voice, looking for her eyes. She knew there was a reason he was the best interrogator around. Sometimes she even wondered why the military had allowed him to leave to begin with.

"Boss? I need to know if you feel like you can do this." That was another thing she loved about him -he knew how to get you to talk, and he knew which words he was supposed to use. He was straight-forward. It was good when you were a cop, she thought smiling a tiny bit, but she wondered if that wasn't also the reason his relationships never lasted more than six months.

"Sure I am ok, Cho." she simply said. "Why do you think that I am... well...unfit?"

"Boss, with due respect, but you are tired, and Larson is a loose cannon. We don't know what he will do when he'll realize he has been made. If you aren't ok working this op- and I don't think you are - you risk me too. And not just my career, but my life too."

She suppressed tears- also because she couldn't cry any longer, she had done so too much in the days following Jane's departure - and she finished getting ready. "Well, thanks, but don't you worry. I'm more than fit for the job. That's why I'm your boss, after all."

She was mad. Yes, a little part of her was glad that Cho had noticed that life couldn't be that perfect without Jane, especially for her, but she hated that he knew- that anyone knew - that she was such a frail little girl, heartbroken over her not so charming prince. Hell, she was bad ass senior agent in charge. She deserved some respect, right? Ok, she was suffering for a man, so what? She wasn't the first woman to feel that way, nor the last. But just because she just had her heart shattered and kicked it didn't mean that she wasn't able to do her job. She had always, always been a professional (ok, maybe just almost always. Especially if Jane was concerned). She couldn't believe that her right hand man... she trusted Cho with her own life, why couldn't he do the same thing? What, he believed that just because she was a woman she couldn't be in control because she had ended up a relationship of some kind? Classic men. Double standard.

She left the car slamming the door shout, all geared up, gun in hand, and walked towards the place. The house was huge, and it looked like a labyrinth of sort. Cho was right, mayhem was ready to ensure. Larson wasn't going to come down easily. She sighed, that was just what she needed to end her day.

She entered from one door, and Cho took the back. Slowly, she walked to where they assumed the perp was hiding, trying her best to see what was going on around her. And yet... yet, she knew she was on edge. Just hearing Cho saying so made her feel that way. It just... she had to keep it together. She had to remember herself that she was a good cop. That she could do all of this on her own. She didn't need Patrick Jane - nor on the job or in her life.

She kept taking big breaths, walking slowly, and yet she felt herself shaking. She was cold-sweating, and she got scared of herself. Since when she was so tired she couldn't be vigilante enough? Since when she was a frail little girl? She didn't need Patrick Jane to defend her. Jane wasn't there any longer. Thinking about him was just a waste of energy and concentration, both things fundamental in her job's description. Besides, all that bullshit about loving someone and letting them go, about the distance making you love more... it was just that. Bullshit filled with nonsense, pointless and useless.

She heard noises coming from one of the rooms, but the place, developed to be an exhibit of some sort, was a Daedalus. It was hard to say where the noises came from, and who was making them. Was someone running? Moving things? She just kept looking around, trying to get an answer to her inner questions. She felt desperate, almost scared, but then she breathed out in relief when she saw Cho right before her: it had been just him, it had to be!

And then...

"Lisbon!" he screamed, attempting to run towards her, but suddenly she felt someone grabbing her for the shoulders, a strong arm around her neck and a gun pointed at her head.

"You, copper, you move, the lady is as good as six feet under, you hear me?" He screamed as Cho pointed the gun at him. She wanted to cry, but she felt she was unable to. She was too scared. So scared she couldn't even sob. She was going to die, didn't she? So, that was the end, and the man who had promised to always save her wasn't around any longer to keep his promises once again. Ah. She guessed she didn't have to be surprised. She chuckled: Jane and his empty promises...

The gun against her skull made a sound, and she was ready to die when the bullet exploded and yet... she felt nothing. Was that how she felt being dead? She didn't feel any different. Did it mean that... she was a ghost, that she wasn't in the afterlife? She didn't know. She just knew that... it felt... it felt... cold.

"Boss!" Cho screamed, and she finally, finally opened her eyes, and she gasped. Well, if that was the afterlife... it sucked big time. "Boss, you all right?" her right hand man asked. She nodded, not completely sure, and then she gasped once again as her eyes fell on the figure on the ground: Larson, dead, a bullet to the head. Cho had done it, Cho had saved her.

She cried. She finally, finally cried, burying her head in Cho's shirt. She would have never done so in any other situation, but this was different. She had almost died, he had saved her, she could have been dead because she was such a frail, stupid silly in love girl. and It wasn't right. For any of them. In silence, her second walked her out of the building, and as soon as they saw the light of the outside, he let it go of her- there was just so much Lisbon could handle, and one thing was looking frail to him, one of the people who knew her better, another was letting anyone see how really damaged she was.

She and Cho did the usual routine asked when a cop shot to a suspect, and then they waited for AI to arrive on the spot and retrieve their statements; she was talking with a young recruit, a girl who looked like Van Pelt in the early days, when she felt two strong arms capture her, and for a second she gasped, believing he was there. That he had somehow learnt of her fate, gotten scared, and decided to come back to them. To her.

But it wasn't Jane, she realized as he kissed her hair. It was Pete. Pete who was always going to be there. While Jane... Jane had left. And he wasn't returning. It was time to face reality and accept her fate. That was her hand, and it was right about time she accepted she had to play with those cards.

So, she cupped Peter's face, and kissed him, a peck on the lips, dictated by fear more than love, and she just said one word. One she should have said right when he had dropped the bomb weeks before, but she had been too stupid to just say it. Because she had believed in Jane. And yet again, he had betrayed her.

"Yes" she said "I will marry you."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Jane still remembered when he had told Timothy Carter, many years before, that getting rid of Red John would mean being free. And yet, he had never believed such a lie. Maybe it was because he thought that Red John's end would mean his downfall too, either jail or death. Living with a memory of his lost family wasn't part of the equation, and yet, here he was, hunted.

Hunted by his beloved lost family. Lost because of him.

Hunted by the memory of Lisbon, lost to him. Forever belonging to someone else.

He remembered that someone –_many someone, actually –_had once told him that to be free he had to leave. Find a new meaning for his life, a new place to live, another woman to love, a new family to add to. Well, despite being ten years late, here he was, doing as he was said for once in his life, trying to readjust to life by getting a life. Only, it wasn't as easy as they had made it sound. He was restless, hyped up, always on edge. He had been traveling for over two months, and yet, he couldn't stay for more than a couple of days in the same place. Her had already gone through the whole California, had traveled to Nevada (and risked arrest in Vegas, where he had been gently asked to never return to during those six months few years before) and was trying to think a new plan of action. Only, he couldn't planned, as much as he wanted to. Because deep down traveling., getting a new life wasn't want he wanted: he wanted a new life with people he cared about, the people he would have lost, if he didn't return home sooner rather than later.

But there was just one tiny, little problem: he couldn't come back home. Not when home was where Lisbon lived, not if she was still with someone else. And did he really thought she deserved the left-over of a man like he was? Teresa deserved better. That was why he had left. They were better off that way.

And yet, even if his mind kept telling him it was right, he felt just like a shell, empty. He liked to think it was what he had always been, that nothing changed, but the more he thought about it, the more he remembered that when he had been around her, he had felt human again, like he could be happy. Maybe even have a future-with her. But he had to stop thinking about it. It was why he had left, after all, because fairy tales were just bed-time stories never meant to happen in real life, and he was neither frog prince nor charming prince: they both had to look somewhere else-for someone else- if they wanted to get a happily ever after. He had hoped that traveling could help, but he had been wrong, and the rain that was wetting that part of California just made it worse. He missed everything that was sunny to him, Sacramento, Lisbon, his house, his family… all things that weren't his any longer.

The thunder roared, and at the side of the road, walking under the rain, Jane saw a young girl. Quite tall, slender, long blonde hair, he thought about stopping by and ask her if she wanted a ride, but then he shook his head. No, he wanted to be alone-needed to, actually – and besides, that girl, she somehow screamed troubles. Asking her to join him wouldn't do.

But then, he felt like he was dying, his lugs filled with liquid fire as a memory thought lost hit him with an unknown force-even stronger than his own hate for Red John. He remembered when he almost died, his blood poisoned by Belladonna tea, and he had seen her, his beautiful baby girl, turned in the teenager she had never came to be. That day, one of the most painful, and yet perfect, days of his life, he had seen her, and that girl along the road, she was just like his Charlie. It was like she was a mirror image of that dream long treasured in his memory palace. He sighed. He knew what kind of tricks the mind could play. Either he was reimagining Charlie, adapting her image to the girl's one, or he had seen that very girl somewhere, whenever, by accident, without actually noticing her. And yet, right now it felt like he was seeing that vision, and as crazy as it could sound, he felt like, by betraying the stranger, he was betraying his own blood and bones yet again. And he couldn't have any of that.

He sighed, almost mad at himself, and without slowing down he made a U turn and stopped abruptly right before the blonde teenager. She looked at him hesitantly, in silence, and he stared at her back, his eyes dark, hard. He didn't say a word wither. Jane was mad, was annoyed, but not with the girl. He was the problem once again, because as much as he tried to move on with his life, to forget about his past, there was something that menaced to hunt him again, to bring him back to that dark place he had sworn he would never live again in.

"So?!" It was half a question, half an affirmation. His eyes never left hers, even when he opened the passenger door from his own side of the car. The girl looked around herself, in the distance, and then she decided to accept his kindness. She joined him in the car, sitting on his jacket, and like she was a wet dog she shook her hair, wetting Jane too. She gasped when she realized what she had just done, and Jane could see that she was worried. The girl had done so on autopilot, and now she thought that the grumpy old man was mad with her because he was as wet as a dog. He sighed, shaking his head, but yet he didn't add anything. There was a small smile on his lips, clear indication that he wasn't as mad as she could assume.

"Ok, young lady, where can I drive you?" he asked as he returned on the main road, the rain stronger than before. The girl looked at the outside of the vehicle. She probably didn't know what to say, thinking that any wrong word could cost her the precious lift.

"I don't care, wherever it is you are going to, I'm fine with it. As long as it is as far away from here as possible." She answered him. It was told in that classic angst-y, annoyed, end of the world tone that teenagers felt compelled to use, and Jane barely resisted chuckling. He didn't know why, but he liked that girl. He was going to drive her mad, just like he had done so many times with…

With Lisbon.

"So… what's your name?" he asked her, but the blonde girl just kept looking outside, at the heavy rain. There wasn't a lot to see, but she seemed ok with anything that wouldn't include talking with the stranger who had been so nice to offer her a ride. Yep, she was a teenager all right. "I'm Patrick, by the way. But people calls me by my surname-Jane. Full-blooded Irish here!" he looked at her again, hoping to get a reaction, of any kind, but still nothing. No smile.

"Ok, so, it looks like we're not in the mood, uh? Ok, all right, you know what? I don't exactly know where I am going, it's more like a spur of the moment, go with the wind, kind of thing. But I was planning to reach East wick, and it's over an hour with this water, so what about a game?" She still didn't answer, nor looked at him. "I bet I can guess everything there is to know about you."

She turned, and stared at him. He could see she wanted to laugh at him, but he didn't say anything. Not yet, at least. "Oh, really? And how do you plan of doing so, oh mighty one?" She mocked him, snorting in a very un-lady like manner.

"It's true. I used to be a psych. I can prove it to you. Right now."

She snorted yet again, shaking her head, looking at him like she was the sensible adult and he the kid. "There's no such a thing as psychs."

Jane gulped down a mouthful of saliva. Why was she using such words? That was a sort of catch phrase of his. It was what he often told people who assumed he had some kind of power. How could she know it? Was it just a coincidence? But then again, he didn't believe that coincidences actually existed, so, how was is possible? For a second, he even believed that the girl was an emissary of Red John, sent to taunt him, but then he remembered that the killer and his entourage were no more. It had to be just that, a coincidence. After all, didn't he once tell Lisbon that he wasn't always right?

"Ouch. Looks like someone doesn't like grammar too much. I didn't say that I am a psych, just that I used to be one. " He answered her in his knowing it all tone. It was kind of fun. He was behaving like he used it with criminals, only, the girl was just as normal as they got. And he wasn't even conning her. It was just perfect.

"So, you were, what, a con-man?"

"Meh. Con-man is such a bad word…" he chuckled, than hummed for a short while, his eyes always on the road ahead. "Ok, let's see… you are a minor, I'd say fourteen, despite looking few years older. By the way, looking older isn't wanted, you do your best to look like a girl your age because when you were younger, the other girls made fun of you. I'm not exactly an expert, but I've been told that early physical development in a girl can be quite painful on a psychological side."

She snorted, shaking her head. If Jane believed that win her over could be that easy, he was mistaken. She knew how he was doing such a thing. She wasn't born yesterday. Besides, it was probably the easiest thing to guess about her.

Jane shook his head, sighing, and for a fraction of second he looked at the girl. It was clear she was in pain, and seeing that pain, he wondered if he was doing the right thing by helping her running away from home. He knew she wasn't going away for nothing serious: Lisbon would have told him to talk her out of her decision, because she believed that there was nothing that couldn't be fixed with care, affection, time and patience. Maybe it was time to try her solution.

He took a big breath, and went on.

"I also think that you believed yourself to be a little spoiled. Not too much, you've never asked for anything your parents couldn't provide you with, but when you asked for something, you usually got it in the end. It normally came from your father, and he often didn't ask your mother about it. You used to believe it was because he felt like you were his princess, but now you've realized that it was because he wanted to still look like the loving father, that he was looking for forgiveness. He has been having an affair, with a much younger woman. She was old enough to be legal as there is just rage and no shame in you, but I think you still knew her from your childhood. Maybe a playmate, like the daughter of a neighborhood. But what it's really crazy is that you aren't mad with him. No, you are mad with your mother. You think it was her fault if your dad was cheating on her. She didn't look after herself enough, didn't try to look beautiful… maybe PST, or…did she lose a child, maybe?"

And then, he saw them, the tears in her eyes, and as she started hitting him with her bare fists, Jane barely made it on the side of the road before they would end up in an accident. And then, as they weren't moving any longer, she slapped him in the face, as hard as she could. She hit the target the first time, but when she went for his face again, Jane stopped her before it was too late.

"Ehy! What the hell?"

"What the hell? What the hell? I should be the one saying what the hell! What the hell do you want from me?" she screamed, unable to keep the tears and a cry from the deep of her soul from emerging. "What the hell do you want, uh? You hope that sad little girl will try to get sex from you because now she has daddy issues?!" She stared at his hand on his hurting face, and saw the ring, the gold enlightened by the passing cars. "What does your wife think about this, uh?" She asked with venom in her voice, disgusted by him.

"My wife and our daughter have been murdered over ten years ago" he said, crying, something that he had done probably just a couple of times before, when it came to his family and that hideous tragedy. "And now, I've lost the only other women who I ever loved…."

"Oh" she told, simply. There wasn't really a lot she could say about this. She was mad with herself, as many troubles as they parents could get in… they were still there. All of them.

"When I pretended to be a psych, I went on TV, and mocked a killer. And instead of hurting me, he killed my family. Way worse, because if you really want to hurt a man, before killing him, you hurt his family." he paused. "After, I asked to help the investigators with the case, and it was there that I met her. Teresa Lisbon. Hard assed, beautiful, sweet investigator with the desire to fix everything and everyone. Me included. I told her she couldn't fox me, but I am starting to think that I was wrong."

He smiled. "She is alive, isn't she? You look sad but… you know… just not so much."

He nodded. "It took us over ten years to catch that killer, and all along, he taunted me. Told me he wanted to kill every happy memory I had. That I couldn't get close to someone without having the, getting killed, or taken away from here. I liked her, a lot, but I was too scared of losing her to actually confess my feelings, and now that he is gone…. I hoped that we would be both of on the same page, but I was wrong because she has moved on with her life and now she has a boyfriend, and as much as I want to protect her, I can't look at Teresa getting married to someone who isn't me."

She shook her head, and took his hand in her own, squeezing it, almost painfully. She was so sad for this man. But nothing was lost, right? His Teresa wasn't dead. He could still talk her in joining him. And she still had both her own parents, after all…

"I think…" she told him, tentatively, her voice broken by her tears. "I think that we should both go back home."

He nodded, and made another U turn, and as he got closer and closer to where he had found her earlier, the sun rose, and it stopped raining.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The road back to Sacramento seemed longer than what he had driven to get away, and Jane had to admit that, despite his usual hectic driving style, he was quite surprised he didn't have any accident. He couldn't concentrate, his mind was concentrating on how much he wanted to get back to her and how much he wanted her-always had, actually.

He had missed Lisbon, he knew it, both with his mind and his heart, but accepting it was another thing. Accepting that he wanted Teresa in his life was like admitting that he was ready to move on from Angela and Charlotte's deaths, and he didn't know if he would be ever ready to do such a thing. After all, hadn't Jane always said that it was like he had had the knife in his hands that faithful night?

But… he had come to realize that he didn't have to choose between past and present and future. He didn't want to, and he was sure that neither did Teresa, nor Angela would have wanted for him to be miserable for the rest of his sorry life. He could love more than one person in his life, and his heart and his memory palace, were big enough to host them all. It was the right thing to do. He deserved happiness, and so did Teresa. She had been at his side like a partner and a friend for years, risking her career and her life as well, and then, once accepted that she was in love with him, instead of pushing him away or trying to get him in bed, she had just been there for him, waiting for the right time. For an occasion, an opportunity, one he had never given her. Getting back to her, it wasn't just right for himself. It was the right thing to do towards Teresa too. She deserved it.

But, again, knowing that one thing was right didn't mean he was ready to jump in anything yet. Jane was still full of regrets, of sense of guilt and self-doubt. He was still an hunted man, but instead of Red John, right now his own worst enemy was himself. Was it right to "impose" himself upon Lisbon? Did she deserve more? Did he have to suffer a bit more to be worth forgiveness from his beloved late ones? He didn't know yet, so he did the only thing that came to mind at such an unholy moment: instead of announcing his impending arrival, he kept it quiet, and took a room in a no-tell motel, one of those places he used to camp in in his "dark days". He needed to think. And to think, he needed to be alone with his thoughts.

That night, he didn't sleep.

His mind was filled with images and memories of both Teresa and Angela. He had often wondered if he had ever deserved any of them, he had always doubted, but deep down, he liked to think that he had been chosen by them for a reason, that he had some good in him, buried deep down within his "soul" or whatever it was that gave him some semblance of morality. That was the only thing that the two women had in common, the fact that they had both decided that he was the one for them. Otherwise, they were so different… one would have wondered how he could have fallen in love with such different personalities. Teresa and Angela were like night and day. It wasn't just in the body (Angela was tall, blonde, blue-eyes, slender, grace made flesh; Teresa was petite, short, dark hair, dark eyes, a tomboy) but in their "spirit" too. When she wanted something, there was no way Angela wasn't going to get it, she was just resolute that way, while Lisbon thought to others first, coming last herself. Angela… well…yes, both women didn't allow him to get away with too much, that was true, but Angela was a bit more submissive than Lisbon. Yes, she told him to stop playing the psych, but she had never complained about the money, nor insisted too much. Teresa? When she though he was amoral, she didn't have any trouble shouting him off for good.

And maybe… that was the whole point. He could love both women, and he loved them not despite the fact they were different, but _because _they were different. He was a different man himself too, after all.

But again that traitor thought invaded his mind: just because he loved Teresa, it didn't mean that he have to love her in every sense of the word. He didn't need to have her, right? He could be like the joker of the court, that often in the middle age tales loved the queen or the princess but only from afar, in what he had once referred to as a "platonic love". He had done so until Red John had died, why couldn't he keep that up?

Well, it wasn't an answer so hard to find: because he didn't know if he was strong enough. Could he look at her from afar and reach happiness into the arms of another man? He wasn't sure. But could he impose her to never be happy with another man, when he, himself, couldn't give her that very happiness? It wasn't like she didn't deserve it. Teresa had always craved love and a family, but she had never gotten one. Why? Because she had always been too busy taking care of others, putting them and their needs before her own persona.

She had to look after her father after her mum died- she couldn't ask someone else to do so, nor to get involved with her and her crazy family.

She had to raise her brothers after her father killed himself- she was just too busy.

She had to catch criminals and work insane hours- nobody was going to defend the weak, if not her.

Jane needed someone to look after him, he needed time before even contemplating the idea of dating, let alone having a real relationship- she just had to be there for him, help him out, and wait for him to see she had always been there right before his eyes.

Maybe he didn't deserve her. Maybe she deserved more. But what if he was what she wanted? He couldn't deny her this. If they both wanted it, it had to be somehow right, right? What if she had changed her mind? God, he really didn't know what to do. Maybe a night hadn't been enough. Maybe he needed more time to just clear his head and come up with his decision. Yes, that had to be it. He was going to do like when he had restricted the Red John list. He was going to stay in his room for more or less a week and analyze all pros and cons. Then, he would leave the room and contact Lisbon, and he would do… he would follow his plan of action, whatever it was going to be, no matter what.

But obviously, his life never went according to plan, and when he was reaching for a notepad to start his list, his phone rang. He really didn't want to answer, but what if it was important? What if it was Lisbon? Maybe it was about her. Maybe something had happened to her. Maybe it was about Red John. No, as much as he hated being delayed, he just had to answer.

He flipped his phone open, and on the screen he saw the name of Cho. He shivered. He didn't dare to breath. What if something had really happened to his Teresa? He would just end his life then and there. God, if she was dead… he had promised her once to always keep her safe, the he would always be around to protect her, and now she could be dead, on in danger, or maybe in a hospital bed because he hadn't been able to do as he had said. Of course she didn't deserve a man like him. She was worth so, so much more than the sorry excuse of a living being like he was!

There was silence on the other end of the line-Cho was probably waiting for Jane to say something- and Jane didn't dare to say a word. Getting to talk about it would make it real. It could mean that Teresa wasn't hurt just in his mind, but in reality too. Or maybe… or it could be worse. He had acted like a man on solitary since he was gone, he didn't know what had happened. Maybe… she could be lost to him forever. Dead like Charlotte and Angela, because yet again of him. Because he had abandoned her. Because he hadn't been able to keep a promise, showing that she was right when she told him that all he could do was empty ones.

"Jane?" Cho finally asked. Jane could feel emotion in his friend's voice, more than he had ever seen with his own two eyes on the Korean's face. Cho was worried, it didn't need a genius to get it.

"Yes?" he answered, closing his eyes. Jane suppressed the tears that were menacing to break free, and gulped down a mouthful of saliva. He really didn't want to talk about it, but he knew they had to, whatever it was. He couldn't hide from reality, he had to face it. Back then it had been a smiley on a wall and butchered bodies in his daughter's room, now he still didn't know yet, but he felt all the hairs on his arms stand, like electricity was running through his body. He knew he didn't have any powers and it was just fear talking and giving away such signals, and yet…he felt like he knew that something was wrong.

"Jane, I need you to do something for me now. Will you do that?" Cho asked, as calm as usual. Jane nodded, then he remembered that his partner wasn't there to see him, and that he had to actually talk with him if he wanted to be understood. Body language in such a situation was pointless, it lacked of utility.

"Yeah" Jane said. It hurt to talk, it was like he had never drank a sip in his whole life, he felt like he was burning from the inside out, and yet he couldn't stop shivering.

"Jane, I know you are at that motel you used to live when you worked with us." Cho said, and Jane looked instinctively around. Were they there? He felt like he was in Spy Game. "You paid with your credit card, and I put a fraud alert on it just to be sure wherever you could be." Jane grunted. Of course his friend did it. Grace was a genius with computers, but the redhead was probably furious with him for leaving. So, instead of begging for help and risking blackmail, Cho had done the next best thing, making sure that it was the bank to do all the dirty job. Clever man.

"Yeah, well, then, please man up once in your life, ok?" Cho said. His voice was low, like he feared being over-heard (and in fact it sounded like he was at the office) but he was… maybe furious was a word too big to use in such a situation, but the agent sounded definitely exasperated. So, then… what did he really wanted from him? And mostly: how was Lisbon?

"Cho?" Jane asked, tentatively, and when silence followed on the other side of the line, he knew he had just had the green light to move on with his statement. "Sorry if I am bothering you by asking this, but… is Lisbon ok?"

Cho sighed. "I guess it depends on your definition of all right. If, by all right, you are asking me if she is alive and healthy, I can assure you that this isn't the problem at hand. But if by all right you want to include her stubbornness and her incapacity of admitting she may be wrong and that jumping head first into something too big right now is wrong… then no, she isn't all right."

"Oh" Jane simply answered, his mouth a perfect o. He was glad she was alive and well, but he was starting to be worried about all that other stuff. Also, he didn't know exactly what to do, or what Cho wanted from him. He just hoped that he hadn't signed up for murder in the first degree.

"Yeah. And actually, I think she had stopped being all right a long time ago. I don't say that she stopped being all right when she met you, but trust me, man, you leaving _again_ did a pretty good job at making sure she wasn't all right."

"oh" Jane answered again. Actually,. He was starting to be a little scared. It wasn't just that Cho knew where he was. It was that Cho sounded man in that scary kind of way. Cho mad was never a good thing. Maybe he had indeed signed up for murder. Only, it was his own.

Cho at the other side of the line sighed desperate. He had kind of figured out what his friend was thinking, and he was wrong. Jane could be a mentalist. But sometimes he could be an idiot. Especially when he was concerned. And if Lisbon was involved, things could even escalate past the point of idiocy. That was how bad he had it for the brunette.

"Ok, listen to me. I need you to take a quick shower, wear something decent and then grab your car and go to St Michael's." Jane shivered, and Cho didn't need to be there to know it, so he took a big breath and then started talking again. "Jane, listen, you need to be there in less than two hours, ok? Because then it will be too late." He paused, and shook his head. Lisbon would have killed him, but it was the right thing to do. " Jane, in two hours, Lisbon will get married with Heist there, and you need to stop her. Because she may not know it yet, but I think she is doing a mistake."

Jane hanged up, and hurried to keep his word.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

The day finally came, and yet Lisbon couldn't believe she was really doing it. She wasn't ready. She wasn't even sure it was right. It wasn't like she had imagined her wedding day to be. Not at all. It was wrong, all of it. The church was too big, there were too many guests, her dress was too long, too pompous, too white. Her hair felt heavy, and the make-up was like a mask on her features, covering who she was instead of making her shine more. She wasn't even sure that the groom was the right person for her, but what was she supposed to do? She had already said yes to Pete, and now they were minutes away from their big moment. She couldn't give up just now. Besides, it would be pointless. She doubted that Jane would appear from thin air to stop her and escape together into the sunrise. It was time to grow up and face reality, Pete was what was good for her. Maybe she wasn't crazy in love with him, but she was fond of the guy-and he was the one who loved her. He would never break her heart. Differently from a certain someone she didn't want to think about to begin with.

"Wait, don't use your own mascara. I have a waterproof one in my purse..." Grace quickly applied the mascara, extremely proud and a bit smug. Lisbon was barely resisting the tears as she saw her reflection in the mirror. It just, that wasn't her. The mascara was too heavy, and she didn't even feel like wearing any make up at all. "Done, boss. This way, when you'll start crying, you'll not get any stains. Nor you'll have to worry about leaving stains on Peter's shirt." Her co-worker giggled, but all Lisbon wanted to do was just getting it over with already. And maybe strangle the redhead.

Someone knocked at the door of the sacristy, and Lisbon jumped to her feet. She was almost running toward the door, sure, for some unknown reason, that it had to be Jane, arriving at the last minute to stop her from doing the biggest mistake of her life. Unfortunately for her, the head that cracked through the door belonged to Tommy, her little brother. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe God wanted to tell her something... that Pete was the one.

"Hey sis, we are ready when you are." he told her, smiling, and with tears in her eyes Lisbon smiled and answered with a shaky "ok". God. It was the maximum she could do. She hoped she would be all right once before the priest. She had to say at loud her vows, after all…

"Then... it's time for me to go." Grace smiled, and left the room, and as soon as she was out, she took hold of Rigsby's arm, and walked with him towards the altar in her bright shocking pink frilly dress. Grace had chosen it personally, she found it very cute and she believed that it looked a lot like the one she had given her boss when she had been supposed to be her maid of honor many years before, when she was ready to may Craig. Besides, it went well with Lisbon's dress too- yet another thing she had chosen, because the boss couldn't decide.

"Aunt Reese, you sure everything is all right?" Annie asked on her way out. Lisbon just nodded, and gave a kiss to her niece before sending her on her way. Annie simply huffed, looking at her aunt one last time, shaking her head in disbelief. Reese wasn't fooling anyone, specially not her sixteen years old niece. Lisbon wasn't happy, that wasn't what she wanted, but what was her niece supposed to do? Nothing. It was all up to her aunt, after all.

"C'mon Ben, give me your hand. We don't want any four years old making any disaster on Teresa's big day." She told the baby, with a tone that made Lisbon cry. It was the same tone she had used many years before with her own brothers. It was really a shame that Annie was an only child. She was so strong, and yet sweet.

Lisbon waved goodbye to her "children", and then turned to Tommy one last time. She was pale and tired, and her brother knew her well. "Are you sure you want to do this, Reese?" he asked once more.

It wasn't the first time he was either asking he directly, or even just using his eyes and their shared looks to understand what was going on through his big sister's mind. He was worried about her. Ok, he could understand that she didn't want to be alone, but he had honestly thought that his sister had a thing for the blonde guy. Was it right marrying another man just to forget about this one? He didn't think so. His wife had tried it once, marrying him to forget her first love, and the result had been a real disaster. But at least, Krista had been able to leave Annie outside the angst-y and unhappy divorce, and now everyone was on their own way.

Tommy knew his sister, though. She was such a strong catholic that she would stay married to a man despite the wrongness and the lack of happiness, and it wasn't right. Yet, there was nothing he could do about it. He had tried to talk with Teresa when she had first announced the wedding, but she had kept changing subject, so he had given up trying to talk her out of it. She was the eldest, she was an adult. If she thought that was what she wanted, so be it. All she needed to know was that he was going to be there for her, no matter the outcome.

The march started, and then, without even having her nodding her approval, they walked towards the aisle. Pete was looking at the priest, and yet, every now and then he would steal a glance at his back, smiling at his bride to be. Tommy knew that expression. Pete was definitely in love, and as nervous as he was, he wanted this marriage. It wasn't like he didn't like his soon to be brother in law. It was just that Peter was a bit too... controlling, and Teresa tended to just do as he suggested. But if she was happy...

The couple was finally at each other's side, right before the priest. Teresa was smiling too, but she was also a bit green. People could see it, but they either believed it was nerves or maybe she was already keeping a tiny little secret. But Tommy and Annie weren't idiot. They knew she was nervous. With the I-don't-want-to-get-married-but-now-I-have-to kind of nerves.

"Brothers and sisters, we are joined here together to join in the holy bound of marriage Teresa Maria Lisbon and Peter Heist. No one can break what God will make one, but if any of you know any reason why this couple shouldn't be joined in marriage, speak now, or forever hold your peace."

An holy silence filled the big church, and like they were waiting for something to happen, people kept looking around, but no one stood, no one spoke. The priest caught, to clear his voice and to fill the silence, and he was about to start asking for the coupe to make their promises, when the heavy wooden door closed with a thund, and everyone's eyes were suddenly focused on the intruder.

Jane, red and sweaty, was trying to stop panting. Everybody was looking at him: Annie and Tommy seemed relieved, Cho was trying to hide how amused he was, the guests (and Grace) wanted to kill him on the spot despite being inside a church, Teresa wanted to be swallowed by the holy ground she stood on and Rigsby and Peter kept looking around trying to understand what was exactly going on. Poor men. So much in love he didn't even know what was happening...

"Sorry, don't mind me" Jane said as he sat in the last row, at the side of an old lady who was divided between raping him and killing him for having interrupted her nephew's wedding. "I'm just late. Traffic is so terrible at this hour of the day, don't you think?" he asked and looked around, and then shout up as no one even tried to smile at his joke.

"Ok, well, then, in this case..." the father coughed again, and then the old man smiled tenderly at Peter, while Teresa kept stealing glances to the crowd. Pete was about to tell everyone that he did wanted to marry her, and she wasn't so sure any longer. If she had ben sure to begin with. Because she didn't know any longer. God, she couldn't believe it. She was the kind of woman who went for second best. Jane had left and she had said yes to Peter. It was so, so wrong. And it was wrong that she was looking for a way out now, of all times. She couldn't do it. She didn't know if she could marry him, but she knew that she couldn't say no now. Not when everybody they knew was there. Good Lord, even the regional director of the FBI was there... hell, even people from the Senate! No. She had made her own bed and it was time to sleep in it.

And yet, she kept looking at Jane for some kind of...what, reassurance, support? What was she waiting for? For him to just stop the wedding and run away with her? Well, she doubted it. Not when he kept waiving at her all smiles and cheerfulness. Did he really have to be that happy that she was marrying someone else? Couldn't he at least fake a broken heart? The bastard.

"Do you, Peter Heist, take Teresa to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day and forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in heath, to love and to cherish, from this day and forward, until death do you part?"

"I do" the groom said, thrilled and smiling enthusiastic. And yet, Lisbon felt small tears gathering in her eyes. Normal, plain vows. Peter hadn't even taken in consideration the idea of writing their own promises. Nope. He wanted the classic and the tradition, he told her. She wondered if he also wanted the two kids, the white fence, a cat and dog, two cars parked in the garage and maybe a stay at home wife. Classic and tradition. She really couldn't believe that she was marrying a man like that. Jane would have never done such a thing. He would have found a way to make it special, unique.

Of course, there was the small particular that she wasn't marrying Jane...

"I, Peter William Heist..." William, she thought? She didn't know he had a middle name. Since when did he have a middle name? And since when it was William? "...take you, Teresa, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day and forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in heath, to love and to cherish, from this day and forward, until death do us part."

"And do you, Teresa, take Peter to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day and forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in heath, to love and to cherish, from this day and forward, until death do you part?"

She gulped down a mouthful of saliva, her eyes now filled with tears, the mascara staining her pale features despite Grace's promises that it was waterproof. Teresa couldn't answer. She was scared. She didn't know what to do. She knew everybody was looking at her, it was like they were burning a hole in her back, but she really couldn't say yes. She felt like she had to, but she didn't want to say those two small, fearful words. She turned one last time to look for Jane, and she saw him staring back at her. She could see he was confused, and yet... he wasn't really relieved, he just... she felt like he was trying to tell her, without words, that he was all right with everything she was going to say and to do.

This was how well they knew each other nowadays.

"Teresa?" the priest asked once more, but she just shook her head. She turned to face Peter, and slowly she took off the engagement ring. She could hear people gasping in surprise and disbelief, but she couldn't care any less. This was her life. This was her decision. "I'm sorry Pete, but I can't do this."

He looked at the expensive, pompous ring on his open palm, and Teresa did the same thing. This man didn't know her, she realized with a small smile. Yes, Jane had once took expensive and flashy jewels for her, but it was like a joke. It hadn't been serious. The times he had taken her gifts, even maybe jewels, he had always taken things in her cords, small or big, it didn't matter. But they were just... her.

She turned to look at Jane once again, their eyes meeting. He could see she was crying, but they were tears he knew. She wasn't unhappy or broken-hearted. She was just... relieved. Happy. Safe and sound. He smiled at her in return, and he didn't care that people was looking at him, that they were whispering, that few of them were thinking about how making him pay for having ruined the wedding. He couldn't care. Not when all he had in his heart and mind was Teresa. She was the only thing that mattered, and if those idiots couldn't understand it, it was all their fault.

Teresa lifted her dress to be able to walk a bit faster, never breaking eye contact with her (former) consultant, and when they were finally eye to eye, her tiny palm went to his heart, while he cupped her face. "Will you take me away from this madness?" she asked with a smile on her lips, and he just nodded, smiling in return like a bright sunny day.

He took her hand in his on, and despite the long dress, despite the high heels, they run together outside, thinking just about themselves for once in their lives. They reached his Citroen, and a bit clumsy, never stopping to look at Lisbon, Jane opened her the passenger door, helping her in. He took his seat, and as few guests were already outside trying to understand what had happened and what the bride wanted to do, he speeded away.

His eyes went always to Teresa, his hand often searching for the comfort of her fingers, of her warm skin. All the time, she smiled, looking at the landscape changing every minute. And with every meter, her heart was lighter, and her love for him stronger.

And the hole in heart was no more. Because he had taken over her life, filling that empty, cold space she didn't know that was there.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Thanks a lot to everyone who red this fic and who let an anonimous review- in this case, I couldn't get back at you personally, so here I am. Hope you liked this journey, or at least, that you did as much as I did.

Chapter Seven

Even if they had left the wedding in a hurry, probably getting few speeding tickets on their way, after few miles they had decided to slow down. They had rode in peace and tranquility, enjoying the places they were passing by, staying in comfortable silence. They hadn't spoken, not even once, not even about the road, allowing the street and fate to guide them whenever it was.

And it was that way that, at sunset, they found themselves at a small, peaceful beach, somewhere on the south-west. They weren't sure exactly where they were, but it looked as good a place as any to spend the night and look at the future.

The beach was very small, just on the side of the road, one so small that was known probably just to locals, and when they left the car to stare at the sun dying in the sea, Jane left the radio turned on to create atmosphere- there was a song on, called "Lullabye".

"You better turn that off. I don't want to risk being stranded in the middle of nowhere with no mobile." Teresa said, crossing her arms and making herself as small as possible. It wasn't that hard, though. In that huge withe cloud, she seemed to disappear. He couldn't believe that Grace had talked her into buying such a thing, but maybe, after all, it wasn't really that strange. Teresa hadn't been so sure about her impeding wedding, of course she wouldn't be so sure about her dress too. Hence, the choice of one that her bridesmaid fancied. Because that... dress- because after all the thing was indeed a dress - screamed Van Pelt in every possible way.

"You are hurting this piece of art, Lisbon. Poor creature had finally started to believe that you had gotten around to love her, and yet you put a knife in her back..." he said, caressing the hood of his baby blue Citroen. When she rolled her eyes, he added, matter of fact: "Besides, woman, I do have my phone with me."

"Right. And remember me, where was the last cell tower we saw in the distance? What? Did you just say too far away to actually get a signal decent enough? Because that's exactly how I would answer."

He shook his head, laughing, and he felt tears wetting his eyes. He couldn't believe that he had been ready to just give up on something so beautiful, so perfect, for a lonely existence. Maybe Teresa was right. Maybe he really needed decent psychiatric help, because he had been crazy enough to just even contemplate abandoning her.

"You want to sit on the beach?" he asked her, his eyes fixed on the calming and calm waves. He was glad to be there with her. He had always loved the sea, he admired the beauty and peace of the sunset in such small places, and to get to contemplate it with her, his love, was even better.

She blushed, but she didn't nod, nor denied him his request. She could see he wanted it, but she didn't dare to walk out in the open with her wedding dress still on. Somehow, it felt wrong, both towards Pete and Jane. It was like she was cheating on them with each other. She just couldn't do it.

And, as always, Jane knew it, as before she could even try to explain herself he was offering her a freshly ironed shirt of his, and a belt.

"It should be knee length. It can easily be mistaken as a summer dress." he said sweetly, helping her out with the back zipper without waiting for Teresa to say anything. He kissed the exposed skin of her shoulder, and then her neck, nuzzling the warm skin. "I am going to lit a bonfire while you are at this."

It took her over ten minutes to join him, and when she did, he was already done with the fire, indication that yet again there was something Patrick Jane knew how to do. He grinned, with that smile of his, that "Gotcha!" expression he so often used to have when he was dealing with Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon. She blushed in answer, glad that he wasn't talking about the whole thing, and yet embarrassed that he knew that she had been staring at him.

"I'm still not completely sure that it really looks like a dress, but thanks anyway." She said, as casually as possible. And yet, she kept blushing more and more. She couldn't help it, but her mind kept going in weird places, and imagining herself wearing just lingerie and Jane's shirt for completely different reasons. Very sexy reasons.

"No need to thank me, Lisbon. Getting to stare at your bare legs is payment enough for the loss of a shirt" he whistled, staring at the exposed skin like the greedy wolf from an old cartoon she used to watch with her brothers. Despite everything, the whole situation made her laugh.

She was so, so happy. They both were. When was the last time she had felt this way? When she was still a child, probably, or maybe... that time, when she and Jane had worked on different cases, and they had seen each other again after days away and he had told her that he had missed her.

"So, what do we do?" she asked once at his side, staring at the darkening waves. She sat embracing her knees.

He turned to look at her, lifting his eyebrows. He probably knew she meant in that moment and not in the long run, but Lisbon was positive he just wanted to tease her a bit. After all, she had been the one to ask him to help her escape her own wedding.

He grinned as he saw her pout, the most lovely thing for him, and he just shrugged. "I don't know about you, but I'm not in the mood for food. So I'd say we catch a nap and then first thing tomorrow we catch an early breakfast."

"And then?" she asked, looking at the sand, don't daring to ask Jane what he wanted. Just because he was there with her, it didn't mean anything. Maybe he still saw her as just a friend. Maybe he just wanted to help her out. Or maybe... Oh, she hoped he was on the same page as her, that they shared the same wishes.

"Then, we can do whatever we want." he answered, firmly. He was smiling, and his smile was simply beautiful. She couldn't get enough of it. And it was contagious. When he was happy, she was happy too.

He gave her a peck on the lips - he didn't want to rush things, and now he knew they were going to have all the time they wanted - and then he put an arm around her shoulders, his chin resting on her head. They stayed that way, with Lisbon's head resting on his chest. He kept staring at the ocean and nuzzling her neck and her hair, and instead of exiting her or making her heartbeat erratic, she got calmer and calmer, until her breathing suggested she was half-asleep.

"If I were to marry you, I would never ask you to wear such a dress. It doesn't suit you. I would allow you to decide on your own, making sure that your bridesmaid didn't interfere, and if you told me that you'd like to wear a knee length, champagne colored dress, I would never ask you to wear a white monstrosity just because it's somehow fashionable and because tradition wants the bride to wear white."

"Uh, uh" she nodded, and he wondered if she was actually paying attention or if it was some kind of automatic reflex. He wouldn't be surprised if it was the case. She had never been so relaxed around him before, not even that time he had to hypnotize her.

_Goodnight, my angel  
Now it's time to sleep  
And still so many things I want to say  
Remember all the songs you sang for me  
When we went sailing on an emerald bay  
And like a boat out on the ocean  
I'm rocking you to sleep  
The water's dark  
And deep inside this ancient heart  
You'll always be a part of me_

Goodnight, my angel  
Now it's time to dream  
And dream how wonderful your life will be  
Someday your child may cry  
And if you sing this lullabye  
Then in your heart  
There will always be a part of me

"Uh... so cheesy, Patrick..." she murmured against his shirt, holding to him as for dear life. He smiled, because it was so rare to listen to her calling him by his given name. Normally, it was because she wanted to persuade him to not do something, or to comfort him. This was new, and amazing and the best feeling in the whole world. He had missed this feeling, he realized, his mind going to Angela and Charlotte once more, but with longing instead of despair, he had gone too long without it. It was time to remedy that.

As he held her in his arms, he also decided that he didn't need to seduce her with a song. That, from now on, was going to be a private joke between them, just to make her happy, to make her laugh and smile. She had never done enough of those things, and she deserved to be happier now. And it was his duty to make sure she did, as he had been the one making her life harder to bear, after all. It was only fair.

He lied them down, and cuddled her. He gave Lisbon a lingering kiss on her raven hair, whispering "Goodnight, my angel" and then he inhaled her scent, breathing her in. He waited for her to be deep asleep, and when he was sure that no retaliation was going to happen, his hands went to her stomach, and he hold her there like for dear life. He knew that they still have time to love each other, but they had to admit that neither of them was getting any younger: soon, children wouldn't be an option any longer, and he hoped that Teresa would allow him to father her offspring sooner rather than later.

He fell asleep like that, engulfed by Lisbon's persona and scent, and while he slept, he dreamt. Of a blonde teenager who looked like the daughter he lost as a child, who gave him goodnight and his blessing. And of dark-haired, green eyed babies running on that same beach.

The tears he shed were, for once, of happiness and relief.


End file.
